


baby, it's cold outside

by queenliest (orphan_account)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 5 Seconds of Summer - Freeform, F/M, Gen, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/queenliest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>luke invites you over at his house, and desperately tries to make you stay.</p><p> </p><p>  <b> [Luke Hemmings/Reader] </b></p>
            </blockquote>





	baby, it's cold outside

* * *

Luke had invited you over at his house. 

He had called you at your home, telling you that his parents weren’t home—they had been out to visit Luke’s brothers in their own respective homes—and asking you if you could come over and have a study session with him. 

You had instantly agreed, telling him that you were bored and had nothing to do. In all honesty, you had a lot to do. You had intended to finish all of your homework and projects today, but you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to hang around and ~~mess around~~ spend some time with your boyfriend. 

Besides, it was Christmas Eve. Tomorrow was Christmas, and spending some time with him was the greatest gift you could ever receive from him. Spending some time with him was the greatest gift you could ever give to him in return. 

And so you had instantly changed your clothes and rushed toward his house, calling a goodbye to your mother over your shoulder as you sped past the door. 

It had been more than four hours now and you and Luke weren’t still done with your study session. It wasn’t because the both of you couldn’t understand the lesson; the both of you could, but you had spent the last few hours messing around instead of doing actual studying. 

And while the two of you were having fun messing around in his empty house, you didn’t notice the first signs of a snowstorm. 

The snow was raging outside, and it was already late in the evening. 

You and Luke were currently sitting on his bed. He was doing the homework while you were trying to write the handwritten five-page essay you had been assigned to do since last week. It was silent; none of you opened your mouth to talk or speak. You had been wallowing in the comfortable silence that surrounded the room the two of you were in when your phone—who had been placed on the space between two of you on the bed—rang loudly, interrupting you from your ephemeral moment of peacefulness and concentration. 

You had been surprised that you had almost jumped out of your seat. 

“Shit!” you exclaimed. You fumbled for your phone, quickly grabbing it and reading the Caller ID. 

You clicked on the answer button, glancing at it and reading before you pressed it to your ear. “Mom?” 

“ **(Your Name)**!” Your mother exclaimed, her voice loud and ear splitting from the other side. She was almost shouting. “Come home this instant!” 

You winced from the loudness of your mother’s voice. 

“But Mom!” you protested. “It’s storming outside!” 

“That’s entirely the exact reason I want you to come home now,” she said. Her tone had softened, although she still sounded a little bit mad. You could also sense the worry in her voice. “Who are you even with right now?” 

“Luke,” you replied. You turned your head sideways to look at him. 

Luke, hearing you call his name, had glanced up from his homework, looking at you, his expression one of concern. 

You shook your head at him, silently informing him that everything was fine—even though your mother was getting angrier and angrier at you every minute—and turning your head back, concentrating on the call and listening to your mother’s words. 

“And you didn’t even tell me?” you mother was back again to scolding you. She was back to almost shouting at you, her voice rising and her tone angry. 

“M-mom!” you spluttered. “I forgot! I’m sorry… oops.” 

“Don’t ‘oops’ me, you crazy daughter of mine!” She said. “You didn’t even tell me where you’re going!” 

“I’m sorry, Mom—“ 

“Come home this instant!” 

“But—“ 

“No buts!” 

And then she proceeded to hang up on the line, not even muttering a goodbye to you. 

You stared at the phone in your hands, staring at it dejectedly. You allowed a frown to grace your lips. 

“What’s wrong? You heard Luke ask from behind you. 

You heard a rustling of sheets and in a moment, he had come close to you. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him, pulled you flush against him. Your back was resting against his chest, and he rested his head atop your head, planting kisses on your hair. 

“Mom’s mad and she wants me to come home this instant.” You said, letting a loud sigh escape your lips. 

“In this weather?” he asked. 

You nodded. You knew that he could feel you nod, but you reiterated your answer anyway.”Yes.” 

“What is she even mad for?” he asked. Throughout your conversation, his voice was a hushed whisper. He knew you were upset, and he wanted to comfort you. You didn’t want loud conversations whenever you were upset, and so he had tried to soother you in the simplest way he knew. 

You shrugged. “I don’t even know. I didn’t tell her I’m going here because I’m rushing. And it’s her fault that she didn’t even ask me who I’m going to be with when I go out!” You said. Your voice had risen, getting higher and higher each time you spoke the words. You were channelling your anger now, letting your frustrations out, allowing everything—every emotion, every anger and frustration—out. 

“Shh, shh,” Luke shushed you. He nuzzled his face into your hair. You turned around and buried your face in his chest, and he had tried comforting you by tracing patterns on your back. 

“Shh, shh.” Luke continued to shush you. He held you tight against him, not saying anything. You had found yourself slowly relaxing, had found your low mood slowly dissipating into darkness, slowly dissolving away into nothingness. 

“I’m okay now,” you said, your voice being muffled by the shirt he was wearing. 

“What?” he asked, his voice a hushed mutter. He didn’t hear what you had said and he was asking you to repeat them to him once more. 

“I’m okay now,” you said. You pulled away from him. He let you, though you had seen the briefest pout on his lips. 

You sat up and maintained a safe distance away from him—close enough for him to pull you close and against him, but far enough so that you wouldn’t be distracted by his intoxicating presence. 

It was silent for a while before Luke spoke, asking the most dreaded question you had ever heard this day. 

“What are you going to do now?” 

“I,” you began, the words dying in your throat. Truth to be told, you didn’t know what you were supposed to do. You didn’t want to come home yet with the storm raging all around you, but you also didn’t want to upset your mother even more. You had no idea what you were supposed to do to go home; you had forgotten to bring a coat and an umbrella in your rush to get here. 

You took a deep breath before opening your mouth to speak. “I don’t know.” 

You allowed another silence to pass. 

“I needed to get home, Luke…” you mused out loud. “But I don’t know how.” 

You thought over and over and over, thinking of the ways for you to be able to get home. Every single thing you had thought was either a silly thought or a ridiculous idea. 

And then suddenly, your mind had functioned properly, whirring and clicking against each other. 

“Luke!” you gasped out his name in joy and excitement. 

Luke furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “What?” 

“Do you have a coat that I can borrow?” 

He seemed to think for a moment. “No.” 

“Not even a spare one?” 

“There is one,” he said. “But…” 

“But?” 

“It’s too big for you.” 

“But I have to get home this instant!” you said, your voice rising a pitch. “I’m sure I could handle big coats.” 

“No!” he said, shaking his head. “You’re going to trip over how long it is and you’re probably going to fall face first into the snow.” 

You pouted. “Are you saying that I’m short?” 

“No,” he said. “I’m just telling you that my coat is too big for you.” 

“Same thing.” 

“No,” he said, disagreeing. “They aren’t the same thing.” 

You were silent for a while, before you began batting your eyelashes at him and mustering the cutest puppy dog face you could ever make. “Please?” 

He chuckled, finding your actions cute. “No.” 

You thought you were succeeding, but he didn’t seem any least bit affected by your antics. 

You pouted. 

“I keep telling you,” said Luke, his tone as patient as ever. “You’re going to trip over there.” He was silent for a while before he continued, “Do you want to trip and die, **(Your Name)**?” 

You didn’t answer, and he knew he had won this argument. 

“I suppose not,” he said, allowing a small smirk to flit on his lips. 

“But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Luke,” you said. Your voice had gone soft, and confusion and frustration was evident in your tone. Your gaze had flitted down; you stared dejectedly at the comfortable bed you were sitting on, staring at its properties, your gaze empty. 

Luke sighed. “You could stay the night here, in my house, in my room, in my bed, in my arms.” 

“But my mother will be mad,” you said, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“It’s just one night,” Luke softly argued. “I could explain it to her tomorrow morning if you want.” 

You seemed to hesitate at first. “But…” 

“You could be stranded out there in the cold, **(Your Name)**. I don’t want you leaving when I know it’s unsafe for you.” 

“Still…” 

“I know you don’t to face your mother’s wrath, but trust me on this. I want you safe for the night. I’m sure your mother will understand.” 

You were silent for a while, seeming to contemplate his words. You opened your mouth and spoke a single word. 

“Okay.” 

You saw a smile slowly make its way toward Luke’s lips. 

“Do you want to sleep now?” he asked after a moment. 

You slowly nodded your head and then he proceeded to pull you back into the soft mattress of the bed, pulling you into his arms and wrapping his arms around you. The both of your positions were similar to a cuddle, and you buried your head in his chest, letting his intoxicating and familiar smell invade your senses. 

He started humming a tune you didn’t recognize. You felt your worries slowly slipping away; you felt yourself being slowly lulled into sleep. And so you allowed yourself to be washed away into the shore of oblivion, blackness enveloping your vision and comfort invading slowly through your system. 

And that was the day you had found yourself curled up on the bed against Luke, spending the Christmas Eve cuddling together. 

Luke allowed the smallest of smiles to grace his lips upon realizing you had fallen asleep. 

And let’s just say that Luke had gotten the earliest and the best Christmas present amongst his other family members. 


End file.
